


An extraordinary life

by bluesaturn



Series: Somewhere beneath my skin [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Foot Fetish, Foot Massage, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Stockings, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, wireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaturn/pseuds/bluesaturn
Summary: Connor surprises Hank by dressing up in lingerie. Hank rewards his husband with a foot massage and wireplay.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Somewhere beneath my skin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850257
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	An extraordinary life

Connor wakes up early on a bright summer morning. The window is still open, the weather too hot as that one would want to close it at night. There's a soft breeze going outside, the bit of cold air feels nice against his skin and Connor can hear the chirping of birds close by. Connor's not used to being idle, but there's something to be said for the peace mornings like this bring him, he thinks.

He was uncertain when Hank and he decided to quit their jobs at the police force, whether or not it was the right thing to do. But Connor hadn't looked back at this decision with regret even once since then.

They're traveling and working remote jobs and some days Connor doesn't know what place they'll end up in the very next day. It's more than Connor's ever imagined he could have and he watches Hank come alive in this new life they've chosen.  
It isn't easy, either, but being on the road and holding Hank's hand in his makes Connor feels like he's finally found a home.

The motel they're staying in is tiny, but the small balcony on the side of the bedroom has a surprisingly nice view of the ocean. They haven't been to Italy before but Connor finds that he's slowly starting to fall in love with it. He hopes he can get Hank to stay a little while longer than they had originally planned. 

His husband is still sleeping, half his face buried under the blanket and snoring loudly. Connor knows it's a sound he's supposed to find annoying, but it's never been anything but endearing to him, like everything else about Hank. (Even if Hank calls him a _fucking weirdo_ for it.)  
They've had a beautiful week, a beautiful year, really, and still - Connor feels the urge to do something nice for Hank. He'll never get tired of seeing a smile on his handsome husband's face.

So he leaves Hank to sleep in a little while longer - they have nowhere to be, anyhow - and grabs some clothes from the dresser, as silently as he can, before he heads to the bathroom.

Connor takes his time getting ready. He applies his makeup carefully - he thinks back to the first time he's tried to do it and how much of a catastrophe that was with a smile. Connor likes to think he's gotten a lot better at it by now. He goes for dark smokey eyes and a light color of lipstick because he knows it's one of Hank's favorite looks. Then he slips into his lingerie - a black lace bralette and a pair of black lace panties and then puts on a pair of high knee stockings. They're held up by a pair of sock garters with little blue bows on their side. Connor takes a step back and admires his look in the floor-length mirror.

It's taken him quite a long time after he became deviant to figure out, what are the things he enjoys and what he's supposed to find good-looking. But by now, Connor's gotten a lot more comfortable in experimenting with his looks, not least thanks to his grumpy supportive husband. He takes one last look at himself, decides he looks _hot_ , and then closes the bathroom door behind him.

Hank's finally up, rummaging around in the kitchen and making himself breakfast. Connor comes to stand in the door frame and watches his husband with a smile. He's wearing nothing but the pair of boxer shorts he went to sleep in and his big belly hangs over them. Connor's eyes wander over his chest, the gray hair all over it, and the sensors in his fingers tingle with the memory of what it feels like to touch it.

As Hank finally turns around, Connor hears amusement in his voice as he speaks:  
"Like what you see?"  
Connor just smiles at him. He enjoys looking at his husband and he's never shy about showing that.  
"Very much," Connor purrs and steps into the small kitchen.  
He can feel Hank looking at him and he revels in it. He's always enjoyed Hank looking at him like that, the feeling like a drug he can't get quite enough of.  
"Damn Connor, made yourself all pretty like that, just for me, huh?", Hank asks and pulls Connor closer to him.  
"Wanted to do something nice for you," Connor mumbles and presses a kiss to Hank's lips.  
“And I was just about to suggest we actually go out today,” Hank says.  
"I could put on some clothes and -"  
"Don't you dare," Hank interrupts him.  
"Why, do you have something else in mind?", Connor asks, grinning at his husband.  
"You're a fucking menace, Connor," Hank grumbles.

Still, Connor finds himself back on the bed just a few moments later, his wrists tied to the bedposts with his own tie. (A hold he could get out of ridiculous easily, but he knows he paints a pretty picture, looking like this.)  
"You're so beautiful," Hank says and Connor smiles up at him coyly. He loves all the praise and compliments Hank likes to shower him with. It's only recently that's he's gotten Hank to accept some of the same in return. Hank _is_ beautiful too and some nights, when they're lying in bed together and Connor holds onto him and whispers sweet words into his ear, he can see Hank is almost starting to believe him.

Hank lies down next to him and Connor looks at his husband, admires the way the sun rays fall onto his face, how his hair is still messed up from sleep and he hasn't bothered to fix it yet. Connor could have a million lifetimes, a million mornings like this and yet, he'd never get tired of looking at Hank, of holding, of loving Hank. If there's any such thing as another lifetime, Connor _knows_ he'd love him then just as much, as he does right that second.

"Getting sentimental there, Con?", Hank asks, at the look on his face.  
"I'm so glad I get to spend my life with you," Connor says.  
He says it often, but sometimes it still doesn't feel like it's often enough.  
"So am I," Hank says with a smile.  
It's an unusually soft admission, but as always it makes Connor's thirium pump stutter much more than anything else ever could.

Hank's brushes his lips against Connor's in a tender kiss and Connor can't quite decide if he wants to spend the rest of forever simply being kissed like that by his husband or if he wants to tell Hank to hurry up and get him out of the delicate lingerie he put on earlier already.  
Thankfully, Hank seems to always get Connor, without him even saying a word. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slides into Connor's open mouth and what starts out tame soon turns heated and passionate.

"I love you," Hank mumbles against the corner of Connor's ear a moment later and Connor gasps, as Hank takes his ear lobe between his teeth and nibbles gently at the skin. Hank licks at the skin carefully and Connor whimpers as he feels the sensors underneath his skin tingle with the soft touch of it.

"I love when you react like that," Hank mumbles, as Connor wiggles on the bed.  
He wants to pull Hank closer but his hands are still tied to the bed.  
Connor wants Hank to fuck him already, but he can tell Hank plans to take his time this morning. He's not sure if he's excited or infuriated about it.

"You're so perfect for me," Hank says and he moves his kisses downward, kisses Connor's chest, his arms, his wrist, right where Connor has that tiny tattoo of a coin, he got on a whim three months after the revolution. (It's the very first thing Connor's ever done on a whim and therefor it's Connor favorite.)  
He also has another tattoo on his thigh and Hank's lips softly brush over it next. Connor squirms underneath the touch, the place somewhere between ticklish and sensitive.

"Hank, please," he whimpers.  
"Patience, Con," is Hank's only answer and he continues exploring Connor's body with his mouth in that torturous pace as if he's doing it for the very first time.  
Connor's not entirely certain how much time passes, he loses track of it at some point, only able to focus on the feel of Hank's lips, Hank's hand on his skin. The feeling of Hank's lips brushing against the underside of his knee, the feeling of Hank's fingers caressing the side of his cheek. Every part of it makes Connor come undone underneath Hank, makes him lose himself in the feeling of pleasure and being loved by him.

He nearly sighs a sigh of relief, when Hank finally removes the tie around his wrists and then helps Connor out of the bralette. Hank's beard scratches against his skin, as he gently takes Connor's nipple between his teeth, his tongue gliding against it. Connor sighs, wraps his legs around Hank's back, and pulls him on top of him.

"Just fuck me already, Hank," Connor begs and Hank chuckles, as he pulls back.  
"Not quite yet, darling," Hank says as if he has all the time in the world. (They do, but still.)  
Connor pouts, but his protests die a moment later, as Hank's hands glide over his stockings.  
"You always look fucking great in these, Con," Hank mumbles, as he presses little kisses to the inside of Connor’s thighs, his legs, and moves all the way down, slowly.  
"There's not an inch of you, that isn't perfect, Connor," Hank says and perhaps he needs to hear these words just as much as Hank does sometimes.  
In the aftermath of the revolution, Connor often felt, as if he'd failed on both fronts. He isn't perfect, he failed Cyberlife and his mission, and often he feels like he falls short on being deviant as well. But he is perfect _to Hank_ and maybe at the end of the day, that's all that matters.

Hank kisses his feet, the sole of them, over and over again and Connor sighs contentedly. Hank removes his socks and his panties and lets them drop to the floor. Hank's fingers glide over Connor's feet softly, almost as if he's admiring him simply with his touch.  
"I've got a surprise for you as well, by the way," Hank says and then leans over Connor to open the bedside drawer.  
He rummages around in it for a moment, before he finds what he's looking for and pulls out a bottle of massage oil.  
Connor's eyes light up as he sees it. Technically, he doesn't really need massages, but they feel wonderful and Hank's become quite skilled at them over time.  
"Just relax and let me take care of you, Con," Hank says, so Connor does as he's told and relaxes into the mattress and waits for Hank to start pampering him.

Hank opens up the bottle of massage oil, dribbles some of it on his hands, and gets to work. He starts with bigger movements, his hands working in firm strokes from the upper part of Connor's left foot downward, time and time again, until Connor relaxes even more. His fingers start massaging the sole of Connor's foot, his thumbs digging deeper into the skin, massaging the deep tissue underneath.  
He moves on to give Connor's other foot the same treatment, his skilled hands leaving Connor lying there in relaxed bliss in a matter of minutes. Connor's unsure what he loves more, the soft touches, or the deep pressure, all of it feels like a relaxed tingling on his sensors and he can feel the love Hank has for him, in every single touch. 

Connor whines at the loss of contact, the moment Hank ends his massage, but then Hank leans down and kisses him softly, and for a second there, Connor's not certain if he's ever been happier in his life. If he ever could be happier than this. He longs to stay in that moment for just a little while longer, but he knows that every single moment to follow after that, will be beautiful in its own right because Hank will be right by his side.

So Connor lets himself get lost in their kisses and the feeling of the way their bodies press against each other perfectly. He lets himself get lost in the love and the beauty of all of it. He lets himself get lost in Hank and the pleasure and the sweet summer air. He gets lost in all of it.

He gets lost in the way Hank's dick presses against him, the fabric of his boxer shorts still between them, in the way his skin fades to white now, wherever Hank touches him.

"Hank, please," he whimpers, overwhelmed with all the pleasure that keeps flooding him.  
"I got you, Con," Hank mumbles.  
Hank goes to grab a rag from the bathroom, despite Connor's protests at Hank stopping touching him.  
"I don't wanna have to explain that to a technician again, Connor," he grumbles.  
He's referring to the time they got lube on the inside of some of Connor's wires and efficiently rendered his legs useless for an entire day. Hank hadn't found the experience quite as funny, as Connor himself. Perhaps because unlike Connor he had an actual concept of the feeling of embarrassment. Or perhaps because in that moment the technician had only looked at Connor, as a weird patient, and not the deviant hunter for once. It had been a nice change of pace.

Hank sets out to clean the massage oil from Connor's feet with the rag, taking his time, being sweet and gentle, as he gets the last off it of Connor's feet. When he's done he presses a small kiss to the sole of each foot. 

Connor stretches his feet and wiggles his toes and looks at Hank impatiently. If the man doesn't start fucking him soon, Connor's either gonna lose his mind or start taking matters into his own hand. Unfortunately messing with his own wires never feels quite as good as it does when Hank does it. Finally, however, Hank's fingers press against a tiny spot on the sole of his left foot, the touch so soft it almost feels like the ghost of a tickle. A panel slips open, leaving the top part of Connor's foot open.

There are a lot of delicate wires inside and Connor knows all too well how sensitive they are. Hank's hands and fingers feel almost too big for the task at hand, but part of Connor loves that too. He’s sturdily built, but when Hank's fingers press against his chassis from the inside, it almost feels as if he could break underneath Hank's fingertips.

Hank slips two fingers inside the panel and Connor can't help the moan that slips out of his mouth the second, Hank tugs gently at one of the smaller wires.  
"Fuck," Connor mumbles and he doesn't even need to look at Hank to know that he's grinning.  
Getting Connor to lose his composure and getting him to swear seems to be one of Hank's favorite things to achieve. Hank scratches against one of the wires with his fingernail lightly and Connor shudders, his feet jerking back a tiny bit.  
"Beautiful," Hank says and Connor also doesn't need to look at himself to know he's blushing.  
Hank starts off slowly at first, a tug on a wire here, pressing a few of them together there. It's infuriating, in how slow and how good it is at the same time. Connor can feel he's starting to overheat a tiny bit but part of him absolutely doesn't care, as long as Hank keeps on doing exactly that.  
"Fuck, Hank," he screams, as Hank tugs at one of the wires a tiny bit harder, almost loosening it from it's port.  
"I love when you scream my name, darling," Hank purrs, and that leaves Connor whimpering.  
Hank picks up the pace, tugs at that wire to the left, rubs two wires between his thumb and ringer feet on the right side. It's not quite a rhythm, something more random than that, but the feeling of it is overwhelming on Connor's sensors all the same. 

He feels Hank everywhere. He feels Hank inside his feet, on his feet, on his sensors, on the fake nerve endings that travel down his spine. He feels Hank in his core, where the heat starts to get overwhelming and he feels Hank's lips on his chassis, his tongue on the rim of the panel. Connor feels overwhelmed and lost in all of it, the sensation too much, not enough, he can't quite decide. It starts to get difficult to think after that for a bit because every little thought seems to melt away, as if Hank and his pleasure are the only things left to exist. 

His core temperature keeps rising, his vision is flooded with error messages, that he pushes aside for the time being and Connor just allows himself to lean into all of it. Allows himself to let Hank take completely over, allows himself to not think, but only feel for just a few precious moments of his time. Hank's fingers are so skilled, playing with Connor's inner workings like they’re instruments he's studied for years. (In a way that's true, Connor supposes.)

Connor sighs, and moans and whithers on the bed and he's certain he's destroyed the bedsheets by now, but he doesn't care, doesn't care about anything but Hank inside of him. It's strangely intimate in a way, opening up this part of himself, allowing Hank to touch sensors that would never be touched otherwise, allowing Hank to take him apart completely and watch him fall. 

Connor can feel his orgasm approaching, the feeling overwhelming him in its intensity. What pushes him over the edge, however, is Hank's tongue slipping inside the panel, and brushing against one of the wires slightly. He does it carefully, probably scared to damage Connor if he gets fluids inside his chassis again, but it's more than enough for Connor. He whimpers and writhes, his body feels too hot, his skin keeps glitching out and doesn't reappear and Connor can't do anything but lie there and let the pleasure of it overwhelm him until he nearly feels as if he's dying. 

Hank's right next to him, his hand's lying on Connor's arm now instead, and he whispers sweet nothing in his ear, that Connor can't quite understand, because his body hasn't quite recovered from any of it yet.  
It takes him a good minute or two - Connor can't quite tell - for his body to return to normal and fix some of the errors he's been getting. He slowly starts cooling down again, thankful there's at least still a small breeze coming through the window. When he's finally cooled down enough, Connor doesn't hesitate for a second, before pulling Hank closer, on top of him, and kissing him breathless.

He can hear the fast beating of Hank's heart, can feel the sweat on Hank's skin. Connor's hand slips behind his neck, pulls him even closer, as he keeps on kissing his husband, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Hank grinds against him, his hard cock pressing against Connor's leg. Connor's been worried, the first few times, Hank would be disgusted or weirded out by how different of an experience it is to have sex with Connor, nothing quite human about it, opening up his insides and playing around with his wires but Hank has never been anything but turned on by it. Connor doesn't really believe in such things but sometimes he thinks it's almost a miracle, that he and Hank ever met.

"I want to make you feel good too," Connor gasps into their kiss.  
He gives Hank barely a moment to catch his breath, as Connor finally removes the last piece of clothing between them.  
He lets the boxer shorts fall to the ground, he'll put them away later, for the moment, he simply just wants to be touching his husband.

Connor wraps his hand around Hank's cock. It's a skill he likes to think he's perfected over the years, making Hank come undone in a matter of minutes. Connor starts off his movements slowly, the strokes more of a tease than anything. If he still had any patience left, he'd edge Hank just to get back at him, but he's unable to wait for this any longer. Then again perhaps - 

Connor circles the head of Hank's dick with his thumb, smearing the precum all over it. He can't help but lift his finger to his mouth a moment later, resting them against his tongue. He loves doing this every time, though his analyzing software shows him all the same things - still, he loves seeing that little bubble pop up, the feel of Hank's fluid on his tongue. He winks at Hank, then starts moving his hand up and down Hank's shaft.  
"Fuck, Connor," Hank curses, and Connor picks up his pace.  
Hank's breathing becomes labored and Connor can hear how fast his heart is beating in his chest. He's close and Connor knows it. So right before he's about to come, Connor stops.  
"The hell?", Hank asks, still sounding out of breath.  
"I - I want you to come inside me," Connor says because if he's honest, he's been thinking about that for weeks now.  
"What?", Hank asks, dumbfounded.  
"My wires," Connor explains, looking at his feet.  
"The fuck, Connor. I'm not explaining that to a technician again," Hank protests.  
Connor rolls his eyes.  
"Fine, I won't take you to the appointment this time," Connor says.  
It's a pointless fight anyway, he looks at Hank with his softest look and knows he's about to win.  
"You're a fucking menace, Connor," Hank mumbles, but he doesn't protest again. (He'd never admit it in a million years but part of Connor thinks maybe he likes shocking Cyberlife employees all the same as Connor does.)  
"That's why you love me," he replies with a wink.  
Hank rolls his eyes, but he can't quite stop the smile appearing on his face.

Connor opens up the panel on his foot again and then resumes his movements, his hand wrapped in a strong grip around Hank's cock.  
Hank's still close, the conversation has not wilted any of his arousal.  
Connor picks up the same pace as before, strong, fast strokes and gently bites and sucks against Hank's neck. His husband moans and grumbles. Then Connor scratches lightly at the head of his cock and that's what pushes Hank over the edge.  
Hank's orgasm hits him, and he comes undone right there, underneath Connor's fingertips. 

His cum coats the insides of Connor's foot. It hits sensors never touched before, and Connor moans as it causes a small short-circuit in his wires. Tiny sparks fly from the inside of his feet and Connor's entire body shakes as he feels himself overheating again, his entire mind palace filled with nothing but pleasure.

"Damn, that really was something," is the first thing Connor hears Hank say when his audio processors start working again.  
"Indeed," Connor sighs contentedly.  
For right now, he doesn't mention the fact that he will need to be taken into a repair shop soon, as he's fairly it would ruin the mood. Instead, Connor pulls Hank down onto the bed with him, so they're lying down properly and then rests his head on Hank's chest. His fingers idly trace the lines of Hank's tattoo and he can hear Hank's heart still beating fast in his chest.

"I love you," he says.  
Hank presses a kiss to the LED on Connor's temple.  
"I love you too, Con."  
Connor grabs Hank's hand with his own and plays with the ring on his finger. Some days he wakes up and still can't quite believe he'll get to spend his entire life with this incredible man right next to him. He knows it's gonna be an extraordinary life, and he'll spend every second of it loving Hank.


End file.
